Pixar, let’s face it, are wonderful. I dare you to find a better superhero movie than The Incredibles, or a more moving ten minutes of film than the intro to Up, or a better and braver hero than Wall-E. Then I double dare you to think of the first Cars movie as the best of anything. Maybe the best at making Pixar’s board a huge merchandising fortune so they can fill their Lightning McQueen-shaped swimming pool with Cristal or whatever it is rich people drink. Probably imported Dr Pepper.
I went to see Cars 2 when the Rotten Tomatoes rating had been going downhill faster than a relevant racing pun. I’ll see anything, though, and as I’ve seen everything Pixar has done (including Ratatouille, which is the first movie I’ve fallen asleep during) there was no way I could stop myself. Armed with 3D glasses and enough popcorn to float a shipwreck, I bravely went to see the first Pixar movie the masses appeared to be dreading.
And they shouldn’t be. Actually, Cars 2 is pretty good.
Perhaps it was my low expectations. I’m not interested in racing or in arrogant race cars voiced by Owen Wilson. (Though I am interested in Owen Wilson when he plays humans.) I own a bunch of movie paraphernalia but cars aren’t my thing. For me, Cars 2 was lifted from horror by ditching the races—there are only three, and the last one you only see for about five seconds—and instead following an adventurous spy thriller storyline when Lightning McQueen’s best pal, country bumpkin tow-truck Tow Mater (Larry the Cable Guy), accidentally happens upon some highly secretive information in a Japanese bathroom. (Yes, there is a scene in one of those convoluted Japanese toilets. Yes, it’s funny. Yes, I wish I also had buttons on my otherwise dull toilet at home.) Mater then becomes the target of the bad guys—headed by a monocle-side-mirror-wearing car who answers to a faceless villain I picked from miles away—but is thankfully found first by British Intelligence officers Holley (Emily Mortimer) and the moustachioed Bond car Finn McMissile (Michael Caine, totally and utterly excellent.) A misinterpretation of events leads Holley and Finn to believe Mater is a spy under deep, stupid cover, and together they must save the day.
Interestingly, the plotline McQueen follows is about a competition started by Sir Miles Axelrod (Eddie Izzard) to best show off the new alternative fuel source he has come up with. While it’s a topic that is currently quite relevant, it’s not elaborated upon too much (fair enough too, the target market really couldn’t give a toss about petrol prices no matter how much we moan about them) but was a pretty interesting angle to take. It’s discovered during the first races that the cars running on the new fuel are prone to go boom, and Axelrod’s new fuel and race appear to be the end of his career.
Along with that drama, McQueen and Mater have a falling out, basically because Mater is stupid and annoying and ruins everything. Which is what stops Cars 2 from attaining the heights of Pixar’s excellence. While Lightning McQueen is smarmy and arrogant, Tow Mater is not street-smart, doesn’t listen, and makes terrible puns. (Okay. And some good ones which should be terrible, like when someone says, “tout suite!” and he says, “I’ll have two sweets too!”) You can forgive him a lot, because he’s never really left his quiet hometown of Radiator Springs before, but the incident that gets him out of favour with Lightning during the first race is actually appalling behaviour on his part as both a friend and a team member. So while I appreciated getting away from McQueen, Mater is still a very imperfect character. You get so little of everyone else that I don’t know who I’d prefer it to be about. Maybe Finn McMissile.
Cars 2 is a beautiful looking movie, which is hardly a surprise. The action is thrilling, Finn McMissile is an amazing addition—he’s a car! He’s on skis! He’s a submarine! He’s got guns! Etc!—and there are a lot of little jokes you could miss if you weren’t paying attention, like that there’s a Popemobile that has its own Popemobile, and the ads on the side of the racetrack that say “Lassetire”. For Australian audiences, V8 Supercar driver Mark Winterbottom voices a car in one scene; in other countries, the paint job and voice is changed. Some jokes are flat-out hilarious. Some will induce a smile. It’s a movie you shouldn’t mind taking your niece to go see.
One flaw that bothered me was the excessive use of stereotypes. It starts with the cringeworthy hillbilly that is the bucktoothed Tow Mater, goes off to Japan where all the female cars appear to be geishas (in my three week experience of Japan, I did not see a single geisha anywhere), then heads over to Italy where everyone is making out and McQueen is told he needs to be fattened up. The only “non-white” characters in Radiator Springs are Flo (Jenifer Lewis), who speaks fluent sass, and her panelbeater husband Ramone (Cheech Marin). My problem is that these kind of stereotypes should be avoided, and pushing them on kids when they’re young and impressionable—“it’s okay to think that other countries are made of a homogenous people!”—is something I’d wish my kids would avoid seeing.
Also, while I’m totally okay with the fact that cars talk in these films, it absolutely pushes my credibility when you see what they have built. HOW DO THEY DO THIS? THEY DO NOT HAVE HANDS. A scene with an army of miniature robots would fix this. Or, you know, I could get over it. After all, there’s one scene in this where the a bunch of cars play guitar in an Italian plaza. HOW DO THEY STRING THE GUITARS THOUGH? I cannot buy it. Also, while I can be okay with teeth (I can buy that they’re actually grills, or whatever), why do cars have tongues? WHYYYYY
So it exceeded my expectations, made me laugh, and I had a good time. And, thrillingly, there’s a Toy Story short before it called Hawaiian Vacation that rocked my socks. There are worse movies out there to see this holiday season, like Kung Fu Panda 2 (which I may review later). And if anyone asks you if it’s better than Cars 1, you can even quote it: “Is the Popemobile Catholic?”
Ah, Rango. The movie posters up at a bus stop near you have a chameleon in a Hawaiian shirt clutching a wind-up fish toy and staring anxiously out. What message about the story does this convey? First, that we’re in a world where animals wear people clothes—and yes, they all do, but we never encounter any humans having a reaction to it—and secondly, that Rango and his pet wind-up fish are going to get up to all sorts of adventures. But alas, the poster lies, and those of you who are fans of wind-up fish toys in their movies are going to be sorely disappointed when he is cast aside within three minutes.
Of course the Wind-Up Fish Fan Club has a pretty small following but honestly, the advertising campaign for this movie has it all wrong. I went to see Rango because I’ll go see virtually anything that is animated (though the godawful trailer for Mars Needs Moms will nix that particular movie) but I wasn’t expecting much, just the silliness provided by the ad and a vacant-eyed fish that for all I know would end up talking a la Gnomeo & Juliet/Toy Story 3. I’m also a bit sick of Johnny Depp parading around in his current only roles as Ham In A Silly Hat, and as he voiced Rango, I expected Ham Via Voice Only. Instead of all that, Rango is actually totally incredible, from its flawless animation to the western/Hunter S Thompson in-jokes to the not-for-toddlers drama and violence. It is an amazingly funny movie, Johnny Depp is restrained—and unless you’ve got an ear for such things, you won’t recognise any of the other famous actors either—and it is so much fun you should barrel right over there to see it now. Quick, open another tab on your computer, see where Village is showing it near you (they have better popcorn, though Hoyts have a good point system. Join up and Palace is cheapest, however. Anyway do what I do and join them all. Memberships make me feel important.)
Depp is Rango, a chameleon cast accidentally out of his happy tank life on a trip through the desert. (That scene, of Rango flying along the ground on a piece of shattered glass, is one of the first visually magical moments in the film; there are at least a hundred more.) During his quest for water in a place so hot liquid evaporates on the ground upon contact, Rango happens upon a lizard named Beans (Isla Fisher, unrecognisably twangy), who alarmingly has bosoms, wears a prudish Southern dress, and freezes completely when alarmed. She leads him to her home village of Dirt, a desolate desert town where all the buildings are animal-sized (and all the animals sized the same as each other, but hey, it’s not like everything else is realistic here until that point) and the people all in desperate need of water. But something sneaky is happening to the water, and Rango, the newcomer who uses his theatrical skills to pretend he is tough when in fact he’s a city slicker like you probably are (and I certainly am) is declared the salvation the town is waiting for.
This is Industrial Light and Magic’s first foray into entirely animated film, and I will throw down and say it’s the best-animated movie I’ve ever seen. We’ve all seen talking animals before, but all these animals are so gloriously convincing, full of expression and texture, that it will blow your mind. Seeing it on the big screen was really something else. Other than that (because really, half of my notes on the film were things like “it looks fucking amazing”, but you probably get the hint by now) I’d like to first express that it’s not really a film for the littlies, with nightmarish dream sequences and an armadillo squashed on the road in the first five minutes with a tyre print along his now-flat belly. (He’s actually fine—or at least a talking ghost, who knows—but I did hear a little whimpering and even some little gasps from the adults, and possibly me.) Another amusing scene ends up with a squished villain, which is funny, and a relief, but still pretty violent.
Cutting insults include “Missing your mommy’s mangoes?” and “If I see your face in this town again, I’m going to slice it off and use it to wipe my unmentionables”, and also confusing to small children would be this line: “We’re experiencing a paradigm shift.” (My favourite noted line was “I’m gonna strip away this mystery and expose its private parts.”) The start is pretty existential, though amusing all the same. And in case you didn’t already get a Fear & Loathing in Las Vegas vibe from Johnny Depp and his alarming shirt, an actual cameo from Duke and Dr Gonzo careening past in their car will get the point across.
My only issue with Rango was that it petered out a bit at the end once it started following a predictable storyline when Rango’s lies catch up with him—it’s a story we’ve seen before, and up until that point it had been so fabulously original I was sad to see it happen. It remained completely hilarious and entertaining, though, so I don’t really mind. And if this is ILM’s first outing, I am desperate to see their second.
In summary: Exceeds Expectations. An all-round wonderful movie and yet another lesson, started with KFC’s Colonel, that anyone wearing white in the dusty South is up to no good.
Image via movieposterdb.com
After the last Disney animated film, The Princess and the Frog, did such a good job of putting me off Disney Princesses forever, I had low expectations for Tangled—the studio’s update of the Rapunzel story and its 50th animated feature. Would it be as horrible as what they did to Tiana, giving her hopes and dreams, making her a hard worker, and then surrounding her with a cast of characters who spend the film shouting at her to throw it all away for love? Uh, well, maybe a little, but Tangled surpassed this, along with my expectations, and was roundly excellent.
Hanging out in the top five of Quentin Tarantino’s twenty best movies of 2010, Tangled tells the story of a lovely blonde-haired green-eyed princess named Rapunzel who has about a fifty metres of glowing magical hair that can heal if you sing the right words to it. Kidnapped as a baby by an old woman determined to use Rapunzel’s hair to keep herself young and pretty, the girl grows up stuck in a tall tower, frightened out of escaping by the woman’s mixed affections—touting herself as a mild caring mother protecting her magical sprog from the horrors of the world, but full of rage when the subject of leaving the tower comes up. Seemingly trapped forever with only charming chameleon Pascal for a friend, it takes handsome young thief—Flynn Rider—climbing into her tower to hide from the authorities to change her life.
In that respect, it does take a man to save the princess—but only after she coshes him on the head repeatedly with a frying pan and strikes a deal for him to help her go outside, and you could just as easily see her do this with a woman. The journey of the rogue, helping Rapunzel only for monetary gain, and the young woman, conflicted between escaping her prison and going against the word of her mother, is utterly entertaining, and a love story that felt very fairytale and Disney but had enough quirks and gorgeous characters to elevate to a worthy movie for the infamous Disney Vault.
Assisting Rapunzel and Flynn are Pascal and palace horse Max, both so ridiculously wonderful that I wanted immediately to own toy versions of them (in life size if possible, thanks Disney if you want to send me some for this glowing review). Max seems to be part human, part dog, and part dragon— pulling levers, wagging his tail when Rapunzel scratches him under the chin, flaring his nostrils in rage. Every time they are on screen it is a delight, as they support our heroine, trip up bad guys and punch arrogant thieves—like our hero Flynn—in the chest. Along with these are the utterly entertaining and gruff tavern-goers, terrifying Rapunzel and cinema-goers at first before breaking into song and listing their most dearly held dreams—from being a concert pianist to collecting ceramic unicorns.
To segue smoothly, the songs do let Tangled down just a touch. While the tavern song is righteous fun, all of the other sappy songs involving Rapunzel wailing about love and dreams sound half-Disney, half-eeuugghh. With Mandy Moore voicing Rapunzel, she has the pipes to carry it off, but the songs are dull, top-forty pop, and sometimes completely destroyed the movie’s ambience. In one beautiful scene where Rapunzel and Flynn are in a rowboat in the water, watching the evening sky as lanterns fall around them, a Miley Cyrus-type ballad just detracted from the moment and I was left disappointed.
The 3D was used to full effect and the film itself is beautiful; the scenery is immersive, the characters themselves animated in an agreeably flat style that worked because the characterisation shone through. I cried, surprising no one, and became totally desperate for Rapunzel’s well-being. She did a lot of saving, bopping people with pans and swinging around the place with her hair—really, she was quite tough and admirable, especially for someone who had been hidden away from everyone else for nearly twenty years. My only real gripe, apart from the sound, and this is ridiculous in a movie where I am fine with someone having magical hair, were the distances people were able to fall yet recover from immediately. I also worry about Flynn’s change of heart, from thief to hero, and whether it was purely because the amount of head injuries sustained at Rapunzel’s hands had given him some cerebral damage.
In summary: Above Expectations—this is a great kids movie, fun enough for the grown-ups, a toymaker’s delight and I kind of want to see it again.
I’ll drop everything to go and see an animated feature, especially if it’s in three entire dimensions AND there is a first-person point of view rollercoaster scene in the ad. So there were preview screenings on during the weekend, and I was there, frantically booking online, assuming the movie would be sold out (in reality, there were only about thirty people in the gigantic cinema, which just meant there were less people to make fun of me when I started squeaking uncontrollably during said rollercoaster scene and flapped my arms about.)
The movie opens with the most unexpected and daring theft known to man—someone has stolen the Great Pyramid of Giza and replaced it with an inflatable replica. Watching this on the news is Gru (Steve Carrell), our villain (er, I mean hero) and someone who is incredibly jealous of this large-scale bit of stealing. Gru gathers his minions, a stack of yellow, pint-sized, unintelligible beings kitted out in permanent goggles and blue overalls, and declares that they will steal something even bigger and more amazing than some measly pyramid. When his plan doesn’t exactly work out—thanks to new villain on the block, Vector (Jason Segel)—the only way to remedy the situation involves Gru adopting three little orphan girls who sell irresistible cookies.
Gru’s lack of parenting ability means that Margo, Edith and Agnes are not welcomed with open arms in his house, but instead served with pet bowls of lollies and water, offered some newspaper for wee-wee and poop, and told not to touch anything. Of course, they’re precocious and adorable, so they ignore his wishes, get in his way, smash up his experiments, befriend all the minions, and, unsurprisingly, steal Gru’s heart.
Now, after some consideration, I’ve realised that I should be rating movies. Not by stars, because reviews are opinions and stars try to make it an exact science, but, stealing from school reports, these three options: Below Expectations, Meets Expectations, Exceeds Expectations. Because the reason I’ll pan a critically acclaimed work of art but then act like The A-Team is a masterpiece of modern cinema is because I have certain expectations for what I’m going to see, and that heavily influences my opinion. And Despicable Me did an easy job of getting my first rating: Meets Expectations. Because it’s fun, and funny, and was utterly predictable but that’s okay, because it’s a kid’s movie, and you don’t want the surprise twist to have everyone living unhappily ever after or maimed in the over-the-top explosions, scarring your small child (or inner child) for life. Despicable Me is very much aimed at children, but still entertaining for adults. Some of the jokes almost made me pee my pants, and the 3D was excellent, and any scenes involving too much parent-related love had me shuffling through my handbag for tissues because I’m a big sook. It was good, you should see it.
But it didn’t exceed my expectations. The leap from Gru intent on abandoning the girls at a theme park to reading them bedtime stories and ignoring his devious plans to play with them was basically played out in a couple of minutes of montage that didn’t really explain why someone who had previously popped a kid’s balloon for the lulz was suddenly up for Father of the Year. I knew it was going to happen, that Gru would adore the children, but I couldn’t follow his train of thought. Gru had some flashbacks to his own childhood, with his cold mother (Julie Andrews) breaking his heart consistently; he was also heavily influenced by father-figure/elderly batty scientist Dr Nefario (Russell Brand), who did not like the disruption the children caused and campaigned for them to go. These did add some depth to Gru’s emotions towards family, but still, not enough. It also consistently frustrates me that big-name celebrities continue to be cast for voice work in movies when a) kids don’t give a toss about them most of the time—how many five-year-olds could point out Russell Brand in a line-up?—and b) they’re not actually voice actors. Steve Carell wasn’t completely terrible as Russian-accented Gru, but instead of having him trying so hard to not be Ah-merican that he sounded like he was literally chewing on the words sometimes, why didn’t they, I don’t know, hire a) an actor who specialises in accents or b) an actual Russian actor, god forbid. Russell Brand was fine, though not much of a stretch, as a British scientist, and serial nudist Jason Segel was also passable yet bland as pyjama-wearing villain Vector. And while it was pretty funny, is it entirely necessary to include a dance scene at the end of every animated movie just to watch all the characters dance in an amusing fashion? It’s been done and I am clearly an old fuddy-duddy who is sick of it.
But it was all a good laugh, with some fantastic scenes (Agnes winning a unicorn and screaming, “IT’S SO FLUFFY!” will make you fall off your chair, Gru laboriously reading the book “Sleepy Kittens” is wonderful, and the minions are always a hoot) and a lovely happy realistic moral which is something like “family should come before destroying the world”.
In summary: Meets Expectations
(Please note I had trouble finding an accurate movie poster for this review—it’s actually out September 9 here in Australia. And also, there’s nothing at the end of the credits, though as the cinema kindly didn’t turn on the house lights I did discover it gets very dark in a theatre once the movie has ended and there’s no lights to guide you down the stairs.)
Dear Pixar,
Aw, you guys, why are you always so gosh darn reliable? I knew Toy Story 3 was going to be good—everything you’ve done has been, bar Cars (but then perhaps I wasn’t the target market there). But I didn’t realise it was going to be quite so completely heart-wrenching, though after bawling through the entirety of Wall-E and for hours after Up, you’d think I’d learn. My mother reports that she took my nephews to see Toy Story 3 and the youngest crawled into her lap at the sad part—you know, the sad part—and said, “I want to go home.” Do you have a specific member of staff whose job it is exclusively to tug at heartstrings? Does he have an anatomical heart he tries it on? (*yank* “What if I killed off Carl’s wife before the first ten minutes were up? Oh, there we go, the tear ducts are working just fine!”)
It’s good you went back to Andy’s life. Now that he’s older, it’s clear the toys aren’t played with any more, but it’s nice to see them still hanging out and reminiscing about The Good Old Days. And with him off to college, it was interesting to see what he was going to do with his beloved Woody, Buzz, Jessie, Bullseye and friends, his name still etched onto their feet. When Andy’s mother accidentally sent his box of attic-bound toys to the day care centre, I knew we were in for some hijinks. But lordy, that Lots O Huggin Bear, the one who’s in charge of the toys at the centre, is one grim dude. And you’re marketing him as a giant plush huggable fun toy? He’s awful! Only the meanest of parents would give that to their children. Anyway. It was interesting how you made him out to be so wonderful and benevolent, only to have him turn on our pals and put them in an age-inappropriate room with kids who stick them up their noses and paint with Jessie’s head. What a rascal! Though I can’t deny it’s an awful lot like Toy Story 2, when Stinky Pete the Prospector came across as wise and all-knowing before turning into a giant bastard. Just sayin’. Also, Jessie’s voice is insufferable. Sorry.
But thanks, Unkrich, Lasseter and co., for a great watch. When Mr Potato Head sticks all of his features onto a piece of flatbread and flops about the screen attempting to save the day, I was almost hysterical with laughter. Buzz’s Spanish mode is something I wish all my talking toys had (and I hope the new release Buzz Lightyears will have a hip-twitching new feature.) I approve heartily of the cameo appearances from Barbie and Ken (who have never been so entertaining, even back when I was the one in charge of their comings and goings) to the plush, smiling Totoro. The drama at the end was absolutely nail-biting and I was openly weeping. Chris even held off speculating on how they were going to get out of this one until the last minute. (And then told me about it, what a surprise.) And I wasn’t sure if they were. We know you don’t hold back on the heartbreak. I can’t remember the last time I was that upset. Like reality isn’t awful enough at times, then you go putting poor innocent figurines in mortal fiery danger? You just have no shame, do you? Children everywhere will be having nightmares about Big Baby too with his creepy rotating head, lazy eye and ominous giggle.
Clever move, also, not pulling a Dreamworks and calling it Toy Story 3: The Final Chapter like they named the new Shrek. I like to think there’s going to be life in this franchise for all eternity. The idea that toys come to life when you’re not there—well, to this day, I still like to think that’s true. I mean, I know it’s not, because I’m a grownup with all my faculties, but it’s pretty adorable to think of. I imagine my three Wall-E figurines (four if you include the Pez dispenser) all rolling around filling their compactors with stray hair clips. (Which would explain where they all go.) Or my small robot collection saying, “Roger Roger” to each other and shooting lasers out of their eyes at my moneybox pig. Now, the people who saw the first two Toy Story movies in primary school or, like me, high school, are getting old enough to have their own children to take to see it, and in turn, they’ll take theirs. So how about it, dudes? Toy Story 4: The Devastation. Come on, I’d see it.
In conclusion, thanks a bunch. Keep up the good work. Love you!
Regards,
Fiona
P.S. “That’s Mr Evil Dr Porkchop to you!” Ha. Classic.
If you’ve got an everyday kind of name, you’ve probably seen a film where the main character has the same name as you. There are probably other movie Fionas out there, but this was the first one I ever saw, and everyone started calling me “Princess Fiona” as soon as the film came out. The Fiona in this film is an ogre. An ogre! I’m not even that green. Since then, my enthusiasm for the Shrek films has waned, as it became an advertising blitzkrieg and spawned three sequels. However, thanks to the lovely people at OPI, who have released a new lacquer range to tie in with Shrek (yes, including two ogre-greens), I scored two free tickets to a preview screening of Shrek Forever After: The Final Chapter in 3D and went along to see it on the weekend.
Shrek himself shares a fair few things in common with Messrs. Homer Simpson and Peter Griffin. All three are family men, with devoted wives and three children of varying lovability, and each seem to spend all of their screen time doing something unbelievably stupid that destroys their family, and then trying to remedy the situation. In this, Shrek’s fourth existential crisis, he is tiring of the repetition of life; waking up to the noise of his three kids, burping (and farting, this is a kids’ movie after all) and feeding them, doing chores, being part of a tour coach’s route, and his loud, always visiting friends, Donkey (and family) and Puss in Boots. He doesn’t have a job, everyone loves him; it doesn’t really sound that traumatic, does it? Apparently it is. Shrek yearns for his old life back, where everyone was terrified of him instead of wanting to be his friend, and he didn’t have any responsibilities. If only it were possible.
But it’s a movie set in a magical universe, so of course it is! Cue teeny bewigged bad guy Rumpelstiltskin, a man who loves to strike a deal. He’s mad at Shrek, whose timing in regards to saving Fiona cost Rumpel a sweet deal with the King and Queen, who were about to sign a deal with him releasing Fiona in exchange for their kingdom. Now down and out, Rumpel sees Shrek upset at his life, and offers him a deal: one day of freedom from responsibilities, in exchange for one “random” day out of Shrek’s life. Because he is dense and we need the plot to move along, Shrek signs the deal, and bam! He is transported into an alternate universe, where he isn’t a family man, just a free ogre able to terrify at will. Sounds great, and it’s fun for a while but there’s a catch. With the kingdom now signed over to Rumpel, life isn’t all fun and games for the inhabitants, ogres are even more victimised than before, Fiona—tough, powerful and now in charge of the ogres—doesn’t know or love him, and, worse still, Shrek has only a day to find a way out of his contract or lose everything—not just his cherished family, but also his life. Because the day Rumpelstiltskin took was a very, very important one.
I wasn’t expecting much—I’d enjoyed the first movie, but not been enthusiastic about the second two, not purposely watching them but kind of absorbing them by zeitgeist osmosis/Saturday evening channel-flicking. Still, I’ll never pass up a free movie and the opportunity for popcorn, and was utterly pleased to find the whole movie was great fun. The characters were all a blast, from Rumpelstiltskin’s devilish grin and mood-appropriate wiggery (“Get me my angry wig!”) to alternate-universe Puss in Boots (now a tad overfed) and Donkey (much the same, though less annoying than previously). While Rumpel’s cohorts—the Oz-like green witches—are a bit colourless, everyone else is great, the voice actors (from old hats Mike Myers, Cameron Diaz, Antonio Banderas and Eddie Murphy to newish hats Walt Dohrn, Jon Hamm and Jane Lynch) doing a brilliant job at injecting the animations with life. It’s funny and entertaining, and even quite emotional—I got something in my eye at the end but, um, it definitely wasn’t tears; that would make the 3D blurry, after all. Similar to the others, there’s a lot of contemporary music in there, and singing, with bounty hunter Pied Piper laying down some Beastie Boys and so on with his flute and making for some unrestrained dancing.
Once you forgive Shrek for being completely daft, and decide not to think too hard about the time-travel aspects of the plot, Shrek Forever After makes for a pretty agreeable outing. The 3D is good, not always painfully obvious, and not that necessary if you don’t want to fork out the ridiculous excess prices for them and the special glasses (of which we now have six pairs around the house.) Good for kids who want to see mud baths, roaring ogres, and fights on broomsticks; good for parents who would secretly crave any way to get their old lives back (hint: it won’t go well.)
Because I am a martyr to the cause, I stayed until the end of the credits. Now you don’t have to—there’s no final animation. (Also, when it takes three songs to finish the credits, you know they are getting far too long.)
Shrek Forever After is in cinemas on June 17.
It’s no secret that I’m a big, giddy fan of Studio Ghibli. I’ve even been to the Ghibli museum in Japan, where I squeaked over the giant Laputa robot, understood nothing of the short film that was entirely in Japanese, and was proclaimed too big to jump all over the giant My Neighbour Totoro catbus. So I was a big arm-flap of excitement over the release of Ponyo.
From what I can gather plot-wise, Ponyo is the name of a “goldfish” that five-year-old Sosuke discovers washed up on the beach near his clifftop home. In taking care of her, he unleashes the anger of Ponyo’s father, a human who lives under the sea after giving up on humanity, continuing his existence in a variety of air-bubble type houses and vehicles. Sosuke and Ponyo become very attached to each other, and when Ponyo’s father retrieves her, breaking Sosuke’s heart, Ponyo decides she’s sick of being a fish with a semi-human face (which only one person seems to actually notice) and become a human, aided by the magic her father is storing away to save the ocean. Her attempts to do so unwittingly create utter chaos, because, as we all know, Magic Can Occasionally Be a Bad Idea. Can Ponyo and Sosuke’s friendship fix this problem?
It’s gorgeous. It really is. The colours are beautiful, the moments of happy family familiarity are touching, and unsurprisingly the backgrounds and action scenes are absolutely divine. Like a few of the other Ghibli movies, it doesn’t always make a whole lot of sense (as one of our fellow watchers said, “It’s like there was about ten minutes in the middle that they just forgot to put in”) and there’s a few parenting choices that make you want to move to the back of the cinema and discreetly dial Child Protection Services. But to counter that last point, it’s always lovely in a way to see a world in which children are much wiser and braver than we give them credit for, and the adults are happy to believe in them. Still, I doubt I’d leave my five-year-old alone in a cliff house during a storm and while a crazy old man is possibly out to find him. But then, I’ve always been the kind of person who worries over silly little things like that.
I can’t say there’s much in the way of plot, and it possibly has the least amount of conflict that I have ever witnessed in a movie. But it’s a kid’s movie, and a sweet one at that. Everyone is endearing, even the bad guys, there’s a whole bunch of smooching and magic, and frankly you’re best leaving the logic part of your brain at the door, where it’s already been battered by convincing yourself that six dollars for popcorn is in any way reasonable.
I adored this. I can’t say enough how lovely the whole movie is. It’s no Totoro, but it’s a great antidote to the brilliant but depressing Ghibli movie Grave of the Fireflies, and frankly it’s one of my favourites. Disney may now have their fingers in the Ghibli pie, but clearly they don’t have a lot of pull, otherwise this movie would have had a narrator explaining what the hell was going on with the father and his magic, and a disclaimer at the end about Always Wear Your Seatbelt, Kids. As it is, we’re not always sure of the reasoning behind Ponyo, but I’m more than willing to abandon myself to Ghibli once more.
